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“You’re going to get wrinkles if you’re not careful.” I gesture at the deepening line between his eyebrows. “You sound like our father.”
“Someone has to.” Lorenzo’s voice is icy. “What thehell, Dante? You went into Altiere’s territory over a girl?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Lorenzo glares at me. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
I grit my teeth, frustration boiling up. “Maybe I just wanted to get some goddamn takeout. You know as well as I do that crossing over to the other side of the city isn’t a reason for violence. He can damn well come over here for a night out if he pleases, as long as he isn’t making deals or running shipments.That’swhen problems start. Not just for stepping a foot over the imaginary divider. You know he crossed a line.”
“And now it’s our problem.” Lorenzo huffs out a breath.
“You’re the one who wanted a reason to go after this guy.” I wave my hand in the general direction of my face. “Here you go.”
“There’s no proof.” Lorenzo’s jaw tightens.
“Do we need it? We’re not the law, ‘Enzo. We operate outside of it.”
“Except you’re the one trying to bring us in line with the law.” Lorenzo gets up, striding to my bar cart to pour himself a drink. I don’t point out that it’s only just past noon. “I want to put Altiere in his place, but he’s still a don, no matter how bullshit we think that is, or how he got the title. If we attack him without any provable reason, the rest of the Family won’t back us. They’re already not thrilled withyou—” he gestures the crystal glass in his hand in my direction “—because you’re trying to change things up. Starting a turf war in LA isn’t going to endear us to them any further, if all you have to go on is getting jumped on the wrong side of the city.”
“Five guys in a parking garage.” I let out a long breath, considering how much Ireallyneed to do today before I can go home, pop a sleeping pill, and pass out until some of the pain fades. “They really did a number on me.”
“That’s obvious.” Lorenzo snorts, sinking back into his chair with the glass of cognac. “So—what? You spent the night in a parking garage? You didn’t think to call someone?”
“They knocked me the fuck out.” I wince. My mouth is still sore, and I probably shouldn’t be talking this much. “I had some help.”
“The girl.”
“I’m not talking about it.” Emma doesn’t want to be a part of this, and I’m trying my damndest not to drag her into it. Lorenzo doesn’t need to know that she was the one who dragged me home and patched me up, or that I spent the night there. He’s just interfering enough that he might do something like put a tail on her without telling me to keep her safe, and while his intentions would be in the right place, I know exactly how she would feel about that.
She’d never forgive me.
Lorenzo lets out a long sigh. “Fine. So I guess we’ll just bide our time, no matter how pissed we are, and see if he makes another move. Can you at least stay the hell in our own territory, until we see if he’s going to push this further?”
“I’ll do my best.” I’m not in the habit of lying to my brothers, and the truth is, I’m not sure if I can promise that. I don’t have any intentions of going back over to that side of town. Still, I know deep down all it would take is one text from Emma, and I’d be headed that way—and to hell with my better judgment.
It should scare me more than it does, that she has that kind of hold on me. If I think about it too long, it does. But she’s too intoxicating for me to care for very long.
I’ve never been the kind of man to become obsessed with anything. But it’s starting to feel as if I’m crossing that line with her.
“Try to do better than that.” Lorenzo tosses back the rest of his cognac and stands up, clearly frustrated with me. I can’t exactly blame him. “Some of the guys handling that MDMA shipment got in touch with me. There might be an issue with the delivery. I need to handle that tonight. Can you go up to theNeon Roseand handle checking in with things there for me?”
Lorenzo gives me a pointed look as he says it. We’re not entirely out of the drug business yet—along with a few other illicit dealings. It’s not so easy to just slip out of years of underworld crime, and contacts who are used to making money with us don’t let go overnight. It’s a long process of easing our way out of it, giving them new pipelines, replacing our business with something else so that they don’t get touchy and retaliate for us backing out. We don’t run things like heroin any longer—I put a stop to that as quickly as possible—but we still handle some party drugs. One of the reasons I don’t bring Carmine into too many of these meetings—he’d offer to keep operating those sorts of businesses, and I don’t think he fully understands the repercussions. He thinks it’s all supermodels and snorting coke off their tits while rubbing elbows with the high-rollers who deal in these things, but the truth is that it’s far more dangerous than that. I don’t want my youngest brother tied up in it—not in the slightest.
I’m not really in the mood to visit a gentleman’s club tonight, but if I tell Lorenzo I’ll handle the shipment, that’ll undermine what we’ve set up. I handle the legit businesses now, and he manages the one foot that we still have in the underworld. Besides, I’m not sure that it would strengthen our position if I went to the drop, looking like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson.
“Fine.” I get up, reaching for my keys. If I’m going to be out on the town tonight, I’m getting some sleep first.
I know Emma isn’t going to reach out. Even if she wants to, she’s decided that there needs to be space between us, and she’s too single-minded and tough to let herself give in to temptation. Not unless I’m there to tip us both over the edge.
That doesn’t stop me from checking my phone several times, all the way until I down a sleeping pill with a glass of water and fall into the luxurious comfort of my own bed.
It’s dark outside when I wake up again. My entire body still aches from the inside out, and my mouth is cottony. I sit up, pour myself another glass of water, and glance at my phone.
Nothing.
Just forget about it.I get up, making my way to the shower to clean up and put on fresh clothes. What I want is to throw on joggers and a t-shirt and not move until my body knits itself back together, but instead, I slip into a slim-cut, tailored Italian suit, leaving the first two buttons of the shirt open. I call down to my driver—I’m in no shape to be driving myself around tonight—and I’m just about to take the elevator down when my head of security intercepts me.
“Mr. Campano.” The tall man I hired to run my security team looks at me with a flat, irritable expression—the only man besides my brothers who could get away with looking at me like that. “I’m sending extra security with you tonight.”
